Cherry Pie by Edward Everett Hale — Read

"Yet it isn't such a bad house," said little Elsie Perch to herself, as she looked upward at the tall tenement-house in which she lived; "to be sure, there's a good many folks in it -- Grandpa 'n Grandma Perch, 'n Grandpa 'n Grandma Finney, 'n uncle John's folks, 'n us -- 'n _her_ house hasn't got anybody in it but _them_ -- but it's a good enough house. I ain't going to cry because that little girl that goes to Sunday-school with me has nicer clothes 'n lives in a nicer house. She hasn't got any cherry-tree, anyway!"

Elsie spoke these last words with an air of great triumph, for, sure enough, right in the back yard of Elsie's home stood a great, generous cherry-tree; and though as she looked at it now, in the gray solemnity of a December twilight, she had to use considerable imagination to recall the luscious red fruit it had borne last summer, and the glossy richness of the green leaves, under whose shade she had been cool and happy when many of her neighbors were sweltering in the August heats; still Elsie was quite equal to it, especially as to-morrow was Christmas day. For there was to be a splendid Christmas dinner at Grandma Perch's, on the lower floor, and uncle John and his family, and Elsie's father and mother, and Grandma and Grandpa Finney were all to be at the dinner. The cherry-pie was always the crowning glory of Christmas dinner with the Perch family.